


Fixing the Broken

by angeredthoughts



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Not a Happy Story, but a happy ending, we can blame magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:16:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angeredthoughts/pseuds/angeredthoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When something breaks, you have to fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oops

**Author's Note:**

> Special thank you to bwitani my beta <3

It started as a joke between friends. Lydia was there with Allison and Danny and they had been drinking; Stiles drinking the most. Danny had been dragged to some new age shop by his cousin and he’d come back with a silly book of love spells. They had laughed at it and read through it, joking and poking each other as they looked through flipped through the pages. At some point Lydia had commented that it should’ve been listed as lust spells, since they all seemed to be about getting it on. He’d responded that maybe he should try one since it was obvious that he was never going to get laid without some help. It had been a joke, something they all laughed at. But they had gathered the candles and the silly herbs then sat around chanting the stupid spell. There had been an odd flash of light, but they had brushed it off as nothing before going back to drinking, all of them laughing and enjoying a werewolf free evening. The moon was full and the sky was clear, meaning their wolf-like friends were rampaging through the woods, terrorizing the wildlife and enjoying themselves and thoroughly as they were.

Waking up in the morning should’ve been the first clue. He had a killer headache that throbbed in time to his heartbeat. His mouth had tasted like someone had rubbed it full of chalk and while he was having a few problems remembering what had happened after his fifth shot of vodka, Stiles was still relatively certain he’d passed out between Danny and Lydia; with his shirt on. He blinked blearily at the sunlight steaming through the window, his eyes stung because of the light as the sound of panicked breathing filled his ears. He turned his head and found Jackson, fully wolfed out, staring at his chest. He froze in shock, noting the possessive look and the heavy breathing before rolling out of the bed. He groaned in pain, holding his head and saw Danny was laying beside the bed, blood dripping down his face from where he’d obviously hit it. His gaze shot around the room until he found Allison pulling back her arm and releasing an arrow that imbedded itself into Jackson, causing him to careen forward and pass out.

“What the fuck?” he gasped, faintly realizing there was slobber on his shoulder. He darted towards Danny and helped him up before he looked up at the girls.

“We don’t know,” supplied a pale Lydia, “He came like he always does at dawn but… he looked at you and suddenly we were in the way,” she said, her face drawn and sad. He was relieved to be over her, but it was still heartbreaking. They all jumped as Jackson shifted, the pillow that had been holding him sliding down the bed.

Letting out a breath, they all gathered their things and left, unsure of anything. They took Danny to the hospital and Allison left to speak to her father, taking the book with her. He left Lydia with Danny and went home, hoping it was just something Jackson had rolled around in. It had happened before, though it had been targeted at Lydia. It was weird and he didn’t like it. The moment he got home he immediately put down a line of mountain ash. He couldn’t put it down around the entire house, but he could put it down around his bedroom so he could feel safe.

For the rest of the day he hid in his room, feeling safe and secretly snickering about how Jackson would feel about the slobber he’d left on his neck. His neck was a little sore, as though the other man had bitten down several times as well. His phone rang, he answered it easily, allowing Jackson to apologize and warn him to put down mountain ash.

“I already did…”

“Good, because it seems the book Danny got wasn’t some gimmick like other books and you managed to cast a spell that will last until the New Moon.”

“What exactly…”

“It affects werewolves. You were all too drunk to read the warning that followed the spell and somehow, even though you were completely and utterly drunk, y’all managed to cast it. We’re looking for a way to stop the spell early and we’ve sent a warning to everyone, but still, you’re going to have to avoid the pack for the next two weeks,” Jackson explained, his voice tight with guilt.

It took longer then he wanted to admit, but he realized that Jackson was feeling bad for molesting him and hurting Danny. He took a deep breath before speaking, “It’ll be fine Jacks, promise and if it helps at all, hell I’ll forgive ya just to be sure ya don’t try and drink wolfs bane, yeah?”

Though he was obviously referring to the incident with Lydia’s punch, he could tell Jackson was amused. A few more words and Stiles hung up without a worry in the world. It was summer vacation, so everyone would be able to accept he wanted to be a recluse teenager for a few weeks. He’d done it before and he knew his father sort of expected it. He just hoped that the spell could be broken sooner, since this was going to be hell. Boredom express anyone?


	2. Broken Lines

It was expected that at some point or another, there would be no avoiding anyone. Case in point: Scott wouldn’t believe anyone from Derek’s Pack if they told him the sky was fucking blue; if it had anything to do with him anyway. For some reason Scott was certain they just wanted to bite him. It took three days before Allison wasn’t able to distract him anymore, but it wasn’t the best of times. They had discovered that there was a way to break the spell, but it was taking time to set up. He had no idea how they had discovered the secret, but it wasn’t something expected; after all they were all supernatural gurus at this point. He just knew it was going to end messy and once more he would need to explain why he needed to replace another pair of jeans to his father.

Alas, Scott refused to believe anyone when he was told there was no way in hell he couldn’t be around anyone. He hated the fact that Scott had figured out how the wolves could break the line if they had to, though he was impressed by the fact only his best friend and his… Alpha… had figured it out. He had been asleep when Scott arrived, so there hadn’t been a single warning before he woke up to the cold morning air on his body.

“Scott! No!”

It wasn’t enough and within seconds, he was staring into the feral eyes of his best friend as he stood there naked, staring at his body. A few seconds of terror had filled and frozen his body before he rolled to try and escape. The second his stomach touched the bed though, Scott was on him, pinning him down. He yelled for his father, even though he was pretty certain the Sheriff had headed to work already. It was a double shift, which meant he was in serious trouble. He tried reaching for his phone, but Scott was already pulling him into position and the blunt head of his cock was pressed against his very tight and very dry hole.

A scream of agony ripped out of him as he pressed in. There was nothing nice about it and he wondered if he wouldn’t have preferred Jackson. At least the other guy seemed to have some general idea of what he was doing. This was hell and he hated it. He sobbed into his pillow as Scott slammed into him, growling and snarling. His claws dug into his hips when he struggled to get away before sharp teeth stilled him completely. They pressed against his neck as he pounded into him. He could feel the blood that dripped down his thighs, which was helping but not in any way he wanted it to.

Abruptly Scott was off him and he saw a second set of glowing red eyes. Derek had apparently heard his scream but he whimpered in fear, because this was rapidly becoming worse. He reached for his phone and this time he managed to grab it before he was lifted onto Derek’s erection. He groaned in pain before Scott was there, glaring angrily at Derek and pressing his still erect cock against his abused hole. He managed to thumb through his contacts and sent an S.O.S. to Allison before he was screaming once more. He could feel the tearing and he passed out as they growled at each other.

Waking up, he saw the line was fixed with Scott and Derek on the other side of it, both of them with boxers on and the guiltiest expressions ever. He turned away, shivering from the fear that rolled in his gut to find Isaac there, black veins rolling up his arm as he took away the pain. Without thinking he jerked away from him and huddled into the corner of his bed. It took several more moments for the movements of other people to register. He saw Mr. Argent was there, looking horribly guilty and angry, his father was also there, holding a gun and there was a strange scent in the air.

“It’s okay, Stiles, we’ve got you, you’re safe,” murmured a soft voice. He slowly focused on Lydia’s face, but he was in so much pain. He fell forward when he accidently sat back and within seconds two sets of very female hands were manhandling him onto his side. He dimly noted that Isaac had left as had many of the other males. Relief like no other flooded his senses and some of the pain faded away as his muscles relaxed.

“I think I’ll skip a few of the meetings, yeah?” he muttered before passing out.


	3. Gathering The Pieces

It was no surprise to him when his father took the time to put mountain ash around his room. Just like at the clinic, unless he opened the door, no one was entering. His father had installed an air conditioner so he didn’t even have to open the window anymore. It eased something in his chest and he was finally able to relax instead of panic whenever something seemed to brush against his window or when his door opened.

The first week after the attack left him in bed, unable to even consider using the toilet. He stuck to a completely liquid diet that was incapable of filling him. He stuck to it, he had stitches. No one but his father visited in that time either. It didn’t take long for his father to confess that he’d promised to shoot anyone who approached the house before he was feeling better. It was a nice thing for him to do, but it had been a week and he wanted some company.

“We come bearing chocolate, chips, soda and movies!” declared Erica, the only werewolf he was willing to let near him. Allison trailed behind her, holding the soda and wearing a soft smile.

Lifting his head, he smiled at them and moved a little so they could crowd around him. His laptop was set up and soon they were immersed in some silly comedy. He laughed with them but he was depressed. He rested his head on Allison’s shoulder for a whole five seconds before he was huddled in the corner of his bed, hyperventilating. The lingering scent of Scott’s cologne filling his mind with the horrible mental images of him holding him down and stealing away what should’ve been his to give. His breathing doesn’t get any better as they try to soothe him and he can tell they are panicking as well.

Perhaps he should’ve waited a little longer to see everyone.

**

Opening his eyes in a hospital room was not what he expected, but he turned his head to his father and saw he was worried, “You wouldn’t catch your breath, Genim, and you passed out,” he explained, his words tight. It hit him that this must have been hard for his father, he hadn’t had such an attack in such a long time.

He closed his eyes for a moment then reached for his father, holding his hand, “I’ll be okay, I promise, one day…”

“I know, son,” like it wasn’t some sort of difficult thing.

The door to his room opened and Erica entered, looking worried. Allison was no longer with her, but he was sort of relieved about that. He looked up to his father as he leaned forward and closed his eyes as a gentle kiss was pressed to his forehead. It was a promise that he’d be back soon but he was going to give him some privacy with his friend. It was such a blast from the past that he almost expected to see Scott when he opened his eyes once more.

Smiling weakly at her, he watched his father leave before she settled on the bed, their hips pressed together. She looked guilty for some reason but he didn’t understand why. He reached for her hand and held it. There were no words rumbling around in his brain, so he had to wait for her to speak. It seemed though; she was willing to just fester in silence. Finally it was too much for him and he looked up into her eyes, about to ask, but there were tears.

“I knew his cologne was clinging to her shirt, I didn’t think…” she blurted out, looking down at their hands suddenly. It took several moments before she could speak again, but he slowly grasped the idea that she was somehow blaming herself for his panic attack, “I sorta considered having her change shirts, but I didn’t even think you’d notice anything…”

He sighed and tugged her down to his side, letting her curl close. He could feel her trembling and smiled sadly, his eyes drooping from exhaustion. It sucked not being completely healthy; he was always tired. Still, he managed enough to say, “Don’t blame you, or her. Just, y’know, r’m’bering…”

**

Later, when he was back safely in bed, Allison came over. He wasn’t be sure why she was there, because she just kept staring at him until he noticed. She was wearing a brand new shirt, so new the tag still hung from the side. It confused him for a moment before understanding filled him. She was making sure he felt safe and he couldn’t help the happy feeling that filled him. He hugged her tightly, thanking her, before they settled down to watch television for a while. They didn’t speak for a long time, but he knew he had to ask.

“So… uh… how… how’s Scott?”

The surprise amused him, but he couldn’t look away, because there was something there, in the corner of her eye, something that told him everything was actually worse than it seemed. She took a breath before speaking, “He’s… He’s not dealing well. S’like he shut down… We got there in time to hear, y’know, we heard you scream and well, Lydia and Danny shot both of them and we dragged ‘em out before we worked to cancel the spell. The moment the spell fell though… it was horrible. Derek… the look on his face… t’was like he’d been forced to lose his family all over again; then Scott, ohmigod, he just, his face went so white, I was scared he’d faint, y’know? And then… they saw you and you were bleeding from their claws and… well it took all of three seconds before they were gone. I found Scott sometime later and he… he is a mess, Stiles. Nothing we can do can fix it because he knows what he did, like Jackson knew what he did?”

Reaching out, he grabbed her hand and held tightly, seeing her face turn white with fear. He didn’t understand what she was trying to say. It was as though she was developing an accent as she rambled, but he knew it was her panic bleeding through, working its way through her words until there was simply babble spilling from her lips. Rubbing her hands, he waited patiently for her to settle down, watching as her eyes moved down to their joined hands and something seized in his chest as she started to cry.

“Allison… what…”

“He tried to cut it off,” she offered, before breaking down completely.

For the first time since he woke up from that awful nightmare, he wished he could soothe his friend and it sucked that just the scent of him sent him into a panic attack


	4. It Takes More Than Glue

It’d been over a month since he’d come back from the hospital. Doctor Deaton had come through with some herbs that sped up his healing so he was able to sit without pain, which was a relief since he was sick of lying around. He was also extremely sick of having to watch very carefully what he ate, because that was embarrassing, okay? Everything was still tender, but mostly healed and as long as he didn’t do anything over strenuous, he was going to be just fine; physically. Mentally though, he knew there were problems he needed to work through.

He’d started working on them though. He had started the day after he’d gotten home. Danny had come over when he’d called and he’d talked to him through the door. It had taken three more days before he was willing to be in the same room as him, and even then the girls had to be there. After a week he was comfortable enough with him that he was willing to allow Boyd to join them in his room. The first day he’d been there had almost caused another panic attack, but it was Boyd, who was far calmer then every other werewolf. Four days later, Isaac joined him and by the end of the month he was capable of interacting with every member of the Pack, but Derek and Scott.

It disturbed him in ways he couldn’t explain. He knew it wasn’t their fault, in his mind he completely got it, but just the idea of being near them filled him with dread. His heart hammered in his chest and beads of sweat would roll down his face at the thought of being near either of them. It felt worse than his panic attacks; it made him feel like he was betraying his friends and pack. He also knew that things were getting worse for them all, since both Alphas were clearly not coping well with what had happened.

Scott was officially locked up in the Argent’s basement, needing constant supervision after a suicide attempt. It hurt that he couldn’t help him, but he knew the others were trying. They spoke to him about what they were doing to help, but it was harder than he thought to let go of the pure terror that filled him when he thought about what had happened. He did send Scott a note asking him not to hurt himself, but he’d yet to hear back on what his response had been.

Derek on the other hand, seemed to have locked himself up without anyone’s assistance. He knew the others had gone to speak to him, but he apparently refused to speak to anyone at all. They weren’t sure if he was eating or anything at all, but the wolves all confirmed he paced restlessly, muttering to himself in growls and whines. He wasn’t sure what that meant either, but it was a little terrifying to hear about.

The fact they were both Alphas was the results of the Alpha Pack infringing on their territory; Scott had accidently killed an Alpha. After that, both he and Derek had sort of started the worst sort of competition to be the head Alpha in Beacon Hills; without trying to kill each other. He knew that they would never really get along and everyone was aware that for some odd reason when it came to him they had a strange dick measuring contest going on; which was weirder then he ever admitted. He had chosen Derek’s pack long before Scott got his power boost, or whatever they called it. He’d chosen back when his best friend was a massive dick and saw nothing but the tits on Allison’s chest. He didn’t like admitting it, but he had chosen back in the beginning, after The Bite, when he was just a stupidly eager child intent on playing games he barely understood.

Before, when it had just been a little funny and kind of naive, it had seemed harmless. Now though, after the attack, he couldn’t help but look back and remember how Scott would make sure to squeeze on longer in a hug, or how Derek would push him up against anything just to press his scent into his skin. It confused him even more, since it made no sense at all. He knew Allison and Scott were no longer together, heck he was pretty certain Allison was dating one of the few football players from school now. They were obscenely close though… perhaps she would know what in the hell was going on?


	5. Bring Me Up

It took three hours for Lydia to get to his place after he called her and he stood in the window, gazing down before something suddenly pinged in his mind. Without a single thought of fear, he bolted down the stairs and stood before Jackson, his eyes intense as they always were when he was on the trail of something. For their part, they seemed almost shell shocked by his sudden arrival. Jackson let out a whine of fear and regret while Lydia just sort of gaped; but not completely because it was Lydia and she did not gape.

“You only wanted to cuddle.” he stated, fact without an ounce of query. He saw Jackson’s eyes flare open then dart around, looking for an easy escape. Lydia stepped in then, her eyes calm and cool, but her posture telling a different story. He stepped forward and pressed his fingers to Jackson’s arm, just where his muscled bulged; not a lot of pressure, just enough so he could tell when his pulse jumped.

It took several minutes before Jackson slumped and nodded and Stiles mind shot off in seven directions at once, gathering information. When Jackson had come to Lydia’s that night, he had tossed all the humans away and snuggled into him. He’d pressed his mouth to his neck, yes, but he hadn’t even had bruises. Absently sucking his lip into his teeth, he thought about what little he knew about scenting and mating. Scenting was easy to understand, since Jackson was a part of Derek’s Pack and that night he was certain he had not smelt a thing like Pack. He hadn’t had time to be around anyone but the humans.

He tilted his head slowly and saw Jackson was completely incapable of lying to him before he grabbed Lydia’s hand and led her into the house, waving absently at the self-loving jock. Having grabbed her bag, he upended it and pulled out the book before sitting down to read. He could see she was in shock, since he had avoided it before. Now he had questions, because he didn’t want to be a hermit and he wanted to understand. He saw the spell was supposed to work on the wolves, just like he’d been told but he let out a snort of amusement before covering his face as a flush rushed across his nose and stained his cheeks.

“Did you finish reading this, Lydia, or did you just skim it to give me quick answers?”

“Skim, basic answers; Stiles what is going on?”

“This spell is supposed to affect werewolves… if they have a human mate. Scott… Scott isn’t mated to me though, I don’t think,” he mused, looking through the text, words blending together in his mind in a smooth explanation, hidden meanings leaping out to him, “I smelled like Jackson though, you know how that can last… he doesn’t like sharing… never really did. I think his attack was to… well, steal me, I think?”

Lydia took the book and read through it herself, this time taking in the details she hadn’t before. They both glanced at each other for a moment before they were hip deep in research. They looked into the ingredients they used and everything else. The candles were supposed to be something special, but they used silly little emergency candles, and they learned the wax has a by-product that induced violence. The herbs they tossed together were supposed to be dry, burning away the violence and leaving a gentle lust. It took them hours to organize and understand everything but when they finished, they were left breathless at the horrible mess they had created. It was supposed to be a spell that pulled any potential werewolf to their mate; instead they had made Stiles the target of their aggressions.

“Well… this makes things… awkward…” mused Stiles, looking at the papers.

With a nod of her head, Lydia rose to her feet and offered a small smile, “Though it does put an understanding on why two people who seem to go out of their way to protect you suddenly seemed intent on harming you.”

Choked laughter escaped him as he helped her gather the papers and handed them over. He knew she would go and give the papers to them. He had no idea if it would help their feelings, but he did hope it would calm them both down. He smiled up at Lydia before his eyes slid to the window and he fell back against the bed. It was Scott, staring at him in object horror… and oddly enough his eyes were no longer the glowing red he’d grown used to. He glanced at Lydia and saw she too was shocked. They both watched as Scott leapt away from the room and Stiles took a deep breath before muttering, “Need better blinds,” then led Lydia back to Jackson.


	6. Take It Higher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is un-beta'ed. I should have the last one up by the end of the week though.

It took another week for someone to find out Scott had challenged Derek to be the Alpha of Beacon Hills, but he’d lost and had somehow along the way lost his title. He read into it, but he figured it was a wolf thing. They had gotten better blinds for his window, which meant now when the wolves visited, someone mentioned who had been trying to spy on him; he kept them closed, at all times. He was relieved Derek and Scott weren’t hiding anymore, but he was still terrified of being anywhere near them. He was trying to work on it though, but not very hard.

It was a day to spend with his father though, and he was curled on the couch, watching bad cop shows while both of them argued over what was right and wrong. Well, they didn’t really argue, they mostly scoffed at the horrible depictions of police. He decided to be nice and made them both steak and potatoes, though he did make spinach salad to go with it. His dad accepted it and they enjoyed dinner, chatting with each other. For the first time since everything had happened, he felt calm and safe. He used to feel like that around Derek and Scott, but that was obviously no longer the case.

Finished with dinner, he climbed up the stairs to his room and opened the door, entering without looking around before he froze in shocked terror. Scott was there, with Allison. He backed away from them, his breath catching in his chest and refusing to escape. He wanted to scream for help. He needed to escape and he fell backwards out of his room, his skull cracking painfully against the wall. A whimper escaped his throat as he stared at him before his eyes turned towards Allison, betrayal clear as day painted on his face. Her face was white, ashen and filled with guilt; she still stared at him, determined for some reason or another.

“Stiles…”

“No… just, no, I… I can’t, no…” he stuttered, eyes closing without his command.

“Stiles, please.” Allison spoke. He could hear her light tread before her cool hand pressed against his arm. He jerked away from the contact, his eyes flashing open. He could see the hurt in her eyes but it was the quiet wine from Scott that caught his attention.

“I wanted to apologize… to try…” he said, his words failing him before he was suddenly there, his head pressed into his neck and his arms wrapped around him.

His breath caught in his chest once more and his entire body stiffened at the contact. His eyes widened in disbelief while he began to tremble in fear. The blood rushing in his ears slowly faded as the minutes ticked by. It took almost fifteen minutes for him to hear the desperate whining that breached Scott’s tight lips. He looked down at him and saw the tears spilling down his cheeks and suddenly, out of nowhere, like a flash of lightning on a pale blue night, he realizes that he was not the only one who was fucked that night. Scott hadn’t any control over his actions because of his drunken mistake. His best friend had been incapable of holding back any of his violent urges and if there hadn’t been an underlying need (read lust) to the spell, it could’ve been much worse.

It still didn’t stop the trembling and he slowly pulled away. He looked at them both, seeing them watching him before he shook his head and fled from the room. He understood, intellectually, what had happened. In his mind, he could forgive. Yet his heart thrummed with fear at the idea of being close to either of them again. It was a massive step, he knew, but for the moment, he’d handled all he could. He hid in his father’s room, a room no werewolf ever entered. The Sheriff was his own Alpha, in a way, and they respected him. He curled in the centre of the bed and fell asleep.

* * *

 

After the surprise visit, he had refused to see Allison. It hurt to know she was so willing to put him in danger just so they could all feel better. The risk of another severe panic attack was right there in her face and she had still done it. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking when she had acted but he figured eventually he would find out. He in fact banned all visits from his friends while he worked through his emotions. He father contacted Ms. Morrell, who knew about werewolves and could listen to him freely. He spoke to her about the fear and terror that gripped his heart; he explained that mentally he wanted to forgive but he was so terrified. She didn’t offer advice or give him some silly exercise to finish. She asked questions, nudging him to think about everything in different ways. It helped a lot and he slowly began to get a grip of his emotions.

A month after the surprise visit, he was allowing people to visit again, but he worked slowly on Scott’s visits. It started with Scott just, coming over. Stiles got used to him in the house, but they were never in the same room. Slowly it built until he was able to at least sit across the table from him. Every now and then he heard the low whine from his best friend, but there was nothing for him to say. It was getting easier; that was all he could offer.

Finally, four months after the surprise visit, he was sitting with Scott, both of them leaning back on the couch and watching some movie. He wasn’t paying all that much attention to it, but he was enjoying the fact he was capable of being near his best friend without breaking into cold sweats. He leaned into him slightly and he felt the tension drain away. He looked over at Allison, who explained that Scott had followed her and they had been arguing, quietly, about him leaving when Stiles showed up. He’d still slapped her for not just shooting him, but he got it… sorta.

There was only one thing left to deal with, but he spent the day with Scott and Allison, several other friends stopping by, before he left his house late at night. He was worried now that there was no fear to buffer his thoughts. No one had really heard from Derek and he was afraid of what that might actually mean. So he climbed into his jeep and headed over to the loft. He parked and looked up. There were almost no lights on and he licked his lips before sliding out and heading in. Entering was a shock and he covered his nose in disbelief. If it was this bad for him, how had Derek survived? A jolt hit him then and he stumbled down the steps. His eyes sharply examined everything before he found the source of the smell. He stared in disbelief at the pile of rotting corpses and wondered why the hell Derek had caught so many deer. Swallowing thickly against the bile that threatened to rise, he opened the windows to let the fresh air in before heading upstairs until he found Derek. He was passed out in the bathtub.

Sinking to his knees beside him, he stroked his hair lightly and shook his head, “Derek…” he murmured, catching his attention. He looked in the misery filled eyes and leaned forward suddenly, kissing him, “It’s okay… I…”

“It’s not okay, Stiles… damnit I hurt you,” Derek blurted out. It pained Stiles to hear his voice. It sounded as though he was speaking around glass.

“It is my choice Derek. Forgiveness is entirely up to me and I choose to forgive you. It wasn’t entirely your fault. I know that, you know that; so lets get you cleaned up and maybe get you something that isn’t rotting…” he complained lightly, before tugging Derek up and out of the tub. It wasn’t all dealt with, he still had cold sweats at the idea of even taking off his shirt near them, but he was working on it, and now he could work on it with them.


	7. Cracked Not Broken (Anymore)

It had been five years since he was first attacked. He was doing much better and he smiled softly as he watched Derek work on his jeep, lovingly repairing it time after time just so he could keep driving it. He looked around their room silently. The house was fixed up, but on any frustrating day, he could still smell the rotting carcasses and sweat soaked clothing; it was a memory he wished he didn’t have. He bit his lip as he thought about how it had taken a visit from him to get Derek to stop hiding. It had been Isaac who’d confessed to him about Derek’s need to attack everyone when they tried to help him. He’d been so devastated he’d refused to let anyone near him.

Still, it had gotten better. It had taken more time than he thought it should’ve but he wasn’t used to dealing with his emotions like he was supposed to. He was still a massive fan of avoiding things until they went away but now he’d learned to accept the fact tha) there were things he simply couldn’t ignore. He smiled softly as he looked out the window again, watching Derek finish the repair on his jeep. He turned away from the window and stepped over to the bed. It had been a long process with many freak outs but he was ready for this. He’d planned everything and done all his research. No one was visiting, it was perfect.

Stripping down, he stretched and admired how he’d tanned. As part of helping him get over everything, he’d taken to sunbathing. It was relaxing and since none of the wolves had anything against nudity, no one blinked when they found him out on the back balcony, soaking up vitamin D. It helped him a lot, though no one understood it. He didn’t bother explaining it to them, there was no way they’d understand how much better he felt when they didn’t hurt him. He hummed to himself and got out the bottle of lube he’d bought before sliding into the bed.

The sheets were changed and he listened for the creak on the fifth step to tell him Derek was on his way. They could fix that creak, but he knew Derek left it so he’d always hear if someone was coming. It was comforting. A little nervous, he slid his hand around his half erect cock and stroked it lazily as the door opened. He watched from the edge of his eye as Derek entered and froze. It was easy to see how effected he was from the sight, but he was not expecting how he’d feel with his mates eyes on him. He groaned in pleasure as he twisted his wrist before lips descended on his. He arched into them and let go of himself to reach for Derek’s shirt. They worked together and within moments they were naked.

He had been expecting to bottom. He’d been practicing with his fingers, fighting back the memory of being ripped open. So when Derek dropped down on him then flipped them over, his eyes widened in shock. He looked down at Derek and saw a faint dusting of red across his nose. He blinked before Derek spoke, his voice low, “You’ll feel better in control…”

Understanding, he kissed Derek deeply. He wasn’t sure about foreplay and he mentally cursed himself for skipping that part of his research. Hands roamed over skin with purpose, instead of the lazy over the clothing exploring they’d done before. Derek pressed the bottle into his hand and his heart stammered in his chest. Licking his lips, he carefully coated his fingers, warming the cold liquid before kneeling between Derek’s legs ~~,~~ who put a pillow under his hips and nodded. He carefully pressed his finger against Derek’s entrance; glancing up to see if he was doing everything properly before slowly pressing in. Groaning at the tight heat, he bit his lip as he concentrated completely on what his fingers were doing.

In less time than expected he was pulling his fingers free. He glanced up in surprise at Derek’s groan. Smiling, he kissed Derek’s chest as he positioned himself. He licked his lips and looked at Derek, eyes wide, not really believing this was happening. Derek’s leg hooked around him and gently tugged forward. He refused to be rushed though. It was a special thing and he loved that he was being given this. He pressed slowly, very slowly, into Derek. When he was pressed completely against Derek, he leaned forward and kissed him before pulling back, “Okay… okay I…” he trailed off, carefully lifting Derek’s legs further before giving a tentative thrust. He groaned at the feeling, an answering moan echoing in the room. It took several minutes for him to get into any semblance of a rhythm; as soon as he did, he was thrusting hard and fast into his mate. He leaned forward and kissed Derek as he worked his hips, sweat gathering and slipping down his skin, cooling his feverish skin. He managed a short warning before he came hard, filling him.

Collapsing onto Derek, he panted for several seconds before feeling the hardness pressed against his stomach. He looked down, blushing when he realized he’d forgotten Derek. He pulled out carefully before reaching down and stroking him. He gazed at Derek’s face as he worked quickly to bring him to his finish. He smiled at the pleasure and kissed him afterwards. They were both tired, so he just reached out for Derek’s shirt and used that to clean their mess before they both passed out.

* * *

Two weeks later, he’s on his honeymoon with his husband, naked on a private beach and he’s certain nothing could ever be better.


End file.
